Chapter 682: Let Him Eat Cookies
Elvis looked at Olive. “Why don’t you agree to give me custody of Levi and Ivy? We can go to court, but my circumstances are superior to yours; I have no other women. You’re still the wife of the Gold City king; I’ll certainly win.”
“If you voluntarily relinquish custody, we avoid a messy dispute. For the sake of the children, I’ll offer substantial compensation,” Olive countered, stunned. He was trying to take her children? He only wanted the children, not her?
Olive shook her head. “I can’t give you my children. They are everything to me.”
Elvis narrowed his eyes. “Olive, are we at an impasse?” He rose from the bed, looking down at her condescendingly. “Then await the lawyer’s letter. I will determine custody.” He turned to leave.
But Olive’s hand shot out, grasping his palm. Elvis paused, his gaze dropping to her. Olive looked up, her face small in his hands. “Elvis,” she whispered, “Can’t we get back together?”
A sharp pain pierced Elvis’s heart. Looking at her glossy shoulders and red eyes, he yearned to hold her, to claim her. He wanted her! He could never refuse her.
Yet, remembering her three years of absence and perceived cruelty, he hesitated. Slowly, he withdrew his hand. “Since you left me three years ago, we can’t go back.”
He fled, fearing he’d relent if he stayed a moment longer, terrified of hearing her speak again. One more word, and he’d concede. Anything she said, he’d obey.
Elvis left. Olive watched him go, her body trembling, strength draining away. Tears streamed down her face. He truly didn’t want her anymore.
She could explain. The three years weren't a choice; she couldn't return. In Visionary, she’d fallen into a deep sleep after giving birth. Upon awakening, she’d longed to return to Imperial, to see him and Nathan. But the opportunity had passed. He hadn't wanted to hear it, and he’d essentially sentenced her. Would they truly end?
Overwhelmed with grief, Olive wept.
Elvis tossed and turned all night. The excitement of fatherhood warred with his lingering feelings. Olive’s face haunted his thoughts. Remembering her plea the previous night, he felt regret. He admitted he regretted rejecting her.
He hated her, but hated himself more. She’d hurt him, yet he loved and cherished her deeply. She held his affections captive.
Early next morning, Elvis went downstairs. He heard the laughter of Levi and Ivy; the villa was fragrant with milk and baked goods. He found Olive in a floral dress and apron, baking cookies.
Ivy, in a princess dress, clapped her hands. “Wow, Mom, these cookies are so pretty and delicious!”
Levi took a bite. Ivy asked, “Bro, are they good?”
“Yeah, they’re so good,” Levi replied, offering a cookie to Ivy. Ivy took a bite, then fed a piece to Olive. “Try it, Mom. It’s delicious!” Elvis watched them share, the scene warm and idyllic.
A calm settled over them. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Elvis’s gaze fell on Olive—her black hair tucked behind her ears, revealing delicate features, her tender smile directed at her children. The image captivated him. His heart softened, a feeling of unprecedented intensity.
Ivy spotted him first. “Daddy!”
Olive looked up, seeing Elvis—tall and straight in a black shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up, revealing strong arms and a fine watch. Masculine charm radiated from him.
Remembering last night, Olive’s eyes blurred. She lowered her lashes, avoiding his gaze.
Elvis frowned, displeased. He stepped forward, kissing Ivy’s cheek. “Good morning, Ivy.”
“Good morning, Dad,” Ivy chirped.
Levi looked from Elvis to Olive, sensing the tension. He seemed to understand the complexities of their relationship; a young boy bearing too much. He sighed, then greeted Elvis, “Hello, handsome uncle.”
Elvis touched Levi’s head. “Levi, what do you call me?”
Levi corrected himself instantly, “Dad.”
“Again.”
“Dad.”
Elvis’s lips curved into a slight smile as he hugged Levi tightly. “Dad, Mom made delicious cookies this morning. Mom, give Dad a cookie,” Levi said innocently.